BOMAW Vol. 10-12 (176 page)

Read BOMAW Vol. 10-12 Online

Authors: Mercedes Keyes

BOOK: BOMAW Vol. 10-12
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"Such nonsense, playing music loud like that, for all the world to hear, inconsiderate, low class riff-..." Her words were cut off by the sudden banging on her front door. "What in God's name?!" She broke off rushing towards the living room, her three children, left their room to see what was going on.

In their front garden, Victor's car was parked at a slant on the lawn where he'd come over the curb with the car, which was still running, his frontend and engine pinging and shaking hot from his hard drive to his parent's home, leaving it to idle over his mother's flower garden along the sidewalk that lead to the door. Phil Collin's song, 'I don't care anymore' blasting from his car speakers, which had the capability to be heard over the distance of two to three city blocks - and he had it at the max. Competing with the shockingly loud music, was the crazed and raging, alcohol induced voice of Victor, shouting at his mother's door.

"OPEN THIS - FUCKIN' - DOOR - YOU GODDAMN BI-I-I-ITCH! FUCKIN' OPEN IT UP - NO-O-O-O-OW!" He banged and kicked at the door, trying to get through it, then backed away from it, looking to the ground, picked up one of the garden stones around the flower bed and launched it at her living room picture window, shattering it; bellowing, "YOU DIDN'N'FUCKIN' WIN! FUCK MY HOME - I'AH FUCK YOURS - LE'ME IN FUCKIN' MOTHER!"

Inside, his sister's cried out, scared; his mother stood in shocked horror, "TEGAN - CALL THE POLICE NO-O-O-OW!" He ran into the kitchen, shaking as his father rushed in the back door. "What's happening? Whose doing that?!" He blazed, shaken.

"VICTOR DAD! VICTOR!" Tegan shouted over the loud music and his brother banging and breaking the door in to get into their home; he slammed against the door, kicking it, hitting near the lock and then back to the window, yelling into it at them inside. Next thing they knew, he dived into the window, staggering to his feet, he began breaking things; his mother screaming at him.

"VICTOR HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" She shouted, scared, looking at her son, his hand bleeding from bracing it on broken glass - blood was on the things he'd grabbed, braking them.

"WHAT YOU FUCKIN' DO? HUH? WHAT YOU FUCKIN' DOOOOOO? YOU FUCKIN' SIGN MY NAAAAME?!! YOU THINK YOU WON? YOU THINK YOU WON? WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE THE PAPERS? WHERE'S MY FUCKIN' DIVORCE AT? HUH? YOU FUCKIN' BITCH!! I HATE - YOUR FUCKIN' GUTS - FUCK YO-O-O-O-OU! FUCK YOUR HO-O-O-OUSE!! DESTROY MINE - FUCKIN' DESTROY YOURS!! YOU LIKE IT NOW?!! YOU LIKE THAT SHIT? HUH?!" He raged tossing furniture around the room, turning over her tables, crashing the chairs. His father had to grab his brother and sisters and rush out the back door, he could see, there was no getting through to Victor. Natalie rushed from the house scared for her life as her son raged inside, destroying everything in sight.

Out front the neighbors that could hear it, came out to watch what was going on. Perceval, Natalie, Tegan and his sisters, were out front now, waiting for the police, sobbing, shaken, scared. Natalie's neighbors, the ones she was closest to, rushed to their side.

"Is that Victor in there?! What's happened to him?!" Her neighbor and friend screeched.

"He's gone crazy, completely out of control! I knew this would happen! Hanging with those people, married to that - that - that thing! She's done this to him! Do you see what it's done? He's probably strung out on drugs of some kind, no telling what she's got him on, he's completely gone! Oh my God, oh my God!" Natalie wept.

"You all just stay out here, don't go near him! I hear the police sirens now. Oh my God! Is that smoke? Your house is on fire! Oh my God!"

Everyone started pointing at the smoke rising from the kitchen.

Natalie couldn't believe it, "NOOOO! VICTO-O-O-OR?!!" She went to rush forward, screaming at her son, when those present held her back.

The police rushed into the block, pouring onto the street, jumping out of their cars, rushing forward, stopping by her to ask what was happening.

Sobbing, Natalie cried, "My son is in there, he's gone completely crazy, probably on drugs, god knows what - he's just flipped out, came raging in, destroying my home!" She sobbed. The police rushed by her, warning everyone to stand clear, asking urgently, "Does he have any weapons, a gun or anything?"

"No! No he doesn't, he's just going nuts!"

Five officers rushed to the door, breaking it open - while others phoned the fire department out, the house towards the back was in flames.

"VICTOR?!! VICTOR PRESCOTT? WHERE ARE YOU? VICTOR PRESCOTT, THIS IS THE POLICE, PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND COME OUT!!"

He staggered towards the front door, dirty, bloody, sweating profusely, "Go the fuck away! I'm burnin' this bitch down - to the ground! Fuck'er house man... fuck'er house!"

"Victor man, get down on the floor!" One of the officers order.

"Fuckin' outside dude, don'ya'see funkin' house burnin' fuck! Stupid prick!" He cursed the officer, tripping as he made his way out. "Fuck it, take me to jail! I don't care anymore! You listen' bitch? I don'care no more! No more! Hey Hey!" He laid down, still singing the song to himself, tears rolling from his eyes, they grabbed his hands behind him as the fire truck horns blew, trying to make their way in amidst the cop cars, some of them forced to move to let them through. The people watching, warned to stay back. They lifted him to his feet, hand cuffed half walking, half dragging him to a police cruiser. When Victor was close enough for his mother to hear him, he looked at her through his tears, declaring, "You fuck my house, now I fucked yours! Thought you won - didn'ya? Thought you won!" And the next face he saw was his father's, he quickly worked spit up in his mouth and blew it, spitting him in the face. "YOU'RE HER PUSSY! I BET SHE FUCKS YOU UP THE ASS! YOU PUSSY!"

The officers shoved his head down to push him into the vehicle, slamming the door. They turned back to look at the house, the entire rear of it was engulfed in flames, moving towards the front. The firemen stood in the garden spraying it with their hoses, as they stood around his car. Someone had turned it off, killing the music.

Natalie stood in shock, thinking herself in a nightmare.

Perceval stood slowly wiping the spittle from his face - turning he looked at his wife. She looked down at him, "Oh Perceval!" She cried.

He looked at his younger son, the one that was left, the one still sane, saying, "Looks like we're going to need a room tonight, huh?"

Tegan nodded.

Perceval looked at his girls, "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Wait Perceval, we have to talk to the police first, see what we have to-..."

"No, you do. You've done everything Natalie, always on your own, including, destroying our home. You don't need any help, you're on your own. I'll be taking these three, and pray to God, I can save them, before it's too late." He turned away, looked at them, "Let's go." With his daughter's hands in his, and his son quickly following, he left her standing there, in shock. Got into his vehicle, started it and gradually made his way out, determined that he wouldn't be back. Hating it, and himself, that it had taken his son, spitting on him, and saying something so horrific before all, before he realized his crime in bringing him to that event.

Natalie turned to her friend standing by, and the police, for the first time, she hadn't a clue of what to do, or how to handle it, all that she'd tried to keep under control, was gone.

Chapter 280

 

In jail, Victor remained as was, with his arm over his eyes, in no hurry to get up from the bed where he lay. He'd been awake for the last hour and a half after sleeping off his night of drinking and destruction. He couldn't get his mind to focus on anything, or anyone, but Crystal. Thanks to his mother, she was no longer his wife. For the life of him, he couldn't think of one thing to reverse this. From her, his mind went to Ben. How close were they? Was there any affection on her side for him? The thought made his stomach hurt. Fierce, hot burning anger shot through him so much so that he wanted to rear back and shout out his frustration! The thought and fear that she'd been unfaithful to him was eating him alive. Would she actually let another man touch her? Ben? Had they been intimate already? Two weeks in L.A. Anything could have happened in that two weeks. He had to find out, he had to know. He wouldn't be able to function or move forward, to rest without knowing. He could hear the fall of footsteps coming his way. With his head pounding like crazy, he forced himself to sit up. He felt like shit. His mouth had no taste left in it, as if full of bland, or nasty cotton. He tried to open his eyes, but the blaring bright light allowed him barely a squint - it was through that squint that he looked up and saw his father standing beside an officer - both of them looking at him.

"Come to attend court with you son, you have to go before a judge, I'm here to bail you out."

Victor gave no reply, he sat, still squinting, he wasn't in the mood to move, especially with him standing there.

The Jail cell door was opened, "Let's go Prescott, we're not standing here for our health." The guard announced impatiently.

Victor got to his feet with a groan, the floor unsteady beneath his feet. Holding his head, he made his way from the cell, deliberately keeping as much space between his father and himself as he could, even so asking him, "What are you doin' here? I can pay my own bail." This was muttered low, any higher a volume his head would not allow.

"I know son, but - I didn't think you should have to."

Hearing that, the guard looked at Perceval as if he were crazy, he knew the charges brought against his son. As far as he was concerned, had it been his son, he would have left him to rot there before he paid a dime on his bail. He shook his head keeping his opinion to himself. What he didn't know, nor understand, was that Perceval was riddled with guilt, reproach and shame, that his actions, or lack thereof, had made his son into the monster - he was worried, he was slowly becoming.

Hearing his father's words only made Victor scoff at him, coupled with a snarl for his efforts. "I've only got one request of you ol'man - and that's to stay the hell out of my life! You've fuckin' shamed me enough - how can you even show your face in daylight?"

Perceval went silent, for the most part, he was good at that. The officer re-handcuffed him, "Ah man come on, I'm not going any where dude." Victor whined.

"Oh, I know you not. Once you see the judge and bail is paid, they're off." They made their way to the elevator that would take them up to the court room in the county building, once inside on the way up, Victor asked, "Can I at least wash my face? Get something to drink? My head's killing me."

"There's a water fountain outside this elevator, drink there." The officer informed him.

"I need something for my head." He moaned again.

"Water, you dehydrated dude. When you're done before the judge, pay your bail - leave and fix your head."

Victor said nothing more, because it was hurting him to talk.

When it was his turn to go before the judge, his offense charges were read out, a DUI, disorderly conduct, public intoxication and the heaviest of them, arson, and was asked how did he plead.

"Guilty." He didn't care, he just wanted it over with and out of there. However, as he stood dazed, hung over, his eyes opened wide when his bail was set at $15,000.00.

"What?! $15,000.00 - come on man, it was my parent's house anyway! Not like I burned down a business or something." He complained.

The judge stopped his paper shuffling and peered up at him. "Just your parents house, huh?" The judge shook his head looking from Victor to his father, Perceval, "You sir, have my greatest sympathy!"

"Don't feel sorry for him, feel sorry for me!"

The judge looked at Victor, "And reason why I should feel sorry for you?"

"I had him for a father!" He returned belligerently.

The judge glared a moment more, "He couldn't be that bad, after all, he's here for you now, after, you burned down his home."

"Guilt." Victor returned.

"We're not going to drag this out, as for your bail young man, be glad that it's not higher! You will from this day forward be on record as an arsonist! Parents house or not! You will put in 72 hours of community service, 48 hours attendance at DWI classes, as well attend 36 hours of AA in addition to 36 more of anger management. Since your car has been impounded, you'll be paying for that as well - this should look pretty to your car insurance company. Failure to fulfill any of the above and you will end up back here once more, before me, with more fines!"

"I have two kids to support - I can't pay that! And because of them, and working, I don't have time for all of that!" He argued.

"You have two sons? How old are they?"

"Three and under."

The judge looked down and scribbled something on his notepad, and then looked up at Victor, "With you as their father, I'll be expecting them in the next 12 to 13 years. Pay your bail and find the exit!"

The hand cuffs were removed and Victor stormed from the court room, his father not far behind him. At the county clerks window, Victor waited for one of the women to attend him, his father came up behind him, "I'm here to pay for it son, all of it."

"I said - don't bother! I'd rather pay for the rest of my life than take anything from you!"

Perceval paused for thought, sighing deep, he swallowed and went on to say, "As you told the judge, you have two sons to see about, this ones on me."

Victor glanced sideways at his father, more belligerence, hostility, zero compassion.

"I've left your mother - for good. Won't be going back." Perceval thought to impart.

"Moving in with your secret lover?"

Perceval paused again, surprised that he knew but at this point couldn't be bothered to care that he knew. "If you must know, yes - I have. Temporarily, until I get a place for myself, your brother and sisters."

"You got to be kidding me?!"

"Excuse me? Your claimant number and name?" One of the clerks asked getting his attention.

Victor laid his sheet given to him on the counter, Perceval stepped forward with his credit card out, glancing up at his son for him to move over and let him handle it. As much as Victor wanted to protest, he gave in - stepping aside. Once the credit card was taken and all was paid in full, they had to stand aside and wait until they brought the keys to his car with the bond ticket to release it to him. While waiting, Victor couldn't help asking, "Does Tegan and the girls know her?"

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